


She Needs a Nap

by 15div51



Category: Rookie Blue
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 08:50:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7708657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/15div51/pseuds/15div51
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>BB/MP<br/>Behind the scenes of RB 6x01, at Oliver's cabin.</p><p>Disclaimer: I own nothing. Also, in case it wasn't already obvious, this is a made-up, imaginary tale and does not accurately represent any of the people's lives in this story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Needs a Nap

The first thing Ben does after jolting himself up and out of Missy's personal space, is zip his jeans back up. Button through the hole. Belt buckle clipped. 

Well. 

After the _first_ shot anyway. 

By the fifth go around, it was all slowing down; the exhaustion of the busy day hitting them hard. Even with the a/c, the room was stuffy and closed in and they had so much to get through and all she really wanted to do was _sleep_.

They'd cut the scene again and again. Every time Ben would get up, she missed the warmth of him against her. Those solid thighs, the press of his stomach against hers. After a while she finds she cares less and less about hanging out in just a bra. 

People constantly talk about an on-camera connection between them that honestly sort of embarrasses her, with the whole 'super pretty wife' at home thing. But the way he'd focus so entirely on her, making her feel like a million bucks with his genuinely gorgeous smile, Missy figures probably he's the main reason.

So, yes, they may have been _on the job_ but laying here on a pretty comfortable bed surrounded by the delicious scent of whatever aftershave they use on him... His heat, his face, his goddamn undone jeans..... A girl just might feel like taking a nap.

(Or getting laid. But, _priorities,_ obviously)

After probably the eighth cut, Missy takes in a long yawn. When she opens her eyes, Ben's moved to rest on his elbow, eyebrows jumping before he blows out a tired breath right in her face. 

"Thanks," Missy says sarcastically, smiling when his forehead tips down against her shoulder. A quietly apology ensues before he shakes with laughter and heaves himself off of her once more. "God, you're like a fucking furnace," she says through another yawn, after getting a sudden chill. 

Ben snorts. "Ha. That's because you're basically a freezer," he replies pointedly. 

"Yeah," Missy shrugs. "Probably that's why they stopped making me wear sports bras."

From this angle she can see his eyebrows jump, a smirk forming across his face. "Probably," he looks back at her and laughs, before turning away and pulling out his phone. 

She lays there for another moment, listening to the crew working away at the reset and PA's continuing their conversation from a few minutes back. 

"Here," she reaches over to toss Ben his shirt... Clamping on it with her toes and dragging along before kicking up until it lands effectively on his head. "You should try to be more professional."

After a pause, Ben spins to face her, his arm landing atop her blanket-covered legs. Missy takes in a breath, glances down at his toned naked torso while she has the chance. "Ha. Ha." He says smugly through the fabric covering his face, tipping his head forward till the shirt lands back on the bed. 

Missy smiles at his glare. She's always loved that about him, the seriousness, the 'all work no play' attitude he always gets. It gave her a challenge; she'd work at pissing him off on purpose, just to get a laugh. He pulls through for her, every single time. 

Instinctively, her hands come up to rest on her bare stomach while his eyes are steady on hers. Sometimes Missy wonders what she could do to get him to break that eye contact. Andy McNally seems to figure it out.... 

Ben cuts her train of thought with a grin, the muscles in his back shifting as he pulls his shirt on over his head. When he stands to talk to this PA, his jeans drop low, and lower, exposing more than half of his underwear-clad ass. He doesn't even seem to notice. 

"Ben, your...," Missy trails off, hesitating for a brief moment before leaning over and hooking her fingers in the loop at the back of his jeans, tugging them back up until they stay in place. 

She expects him to jump forward, or at the very least for him to say something. He didn't even flinch. In fact, it's only about 15 seconds later that he even acknowledges it. 

"Thanks," Ben smirks when he turns around, nonchalant. "Wouldn't want anyone seeing my ass."

Um, nothing we all haven't seen before -- Missy wanted to say. "Yeah wouldn't want that," she agrees with a shrug and resists the urge to slip her hands up and behind her head, pulling everything up, um, high. 

He faces her this time, standing at the edge of the bed, while the back of his neck gets powdered. His PA doesn't love when they do scenes together. Missy's been told over and over that she needs to leave his hair alone because they're tired of fixing it over and over. To this day, Missy refuses to stop. 

It's only when he reaches down to scratch a little at his lower stomach that she notices his jeans are still undone, and still sitting low on his hips. His shirt isn't in place, leaving about an inch of space and his pale skin is a stark contrast to the tight black briefs he wears. With a shift of his weight from one foot to the other, Missy quickly glances away.

"Sorry," he mumbles, his hand dropping lower to grab the bottom of his zipper and tug. 

"Hmm? For what?" Missy feels heat rising to her cheeks, turning over to grab her pathetic excuse for a t-shirt and whipping it over her head. Her legs dangle off of the other side of the bed while she runs her fingers through her hair and begs the redness in her cheeks to subside. 

Immediately her mind goes to Laura, wondering what she would say if she'd seen what was happening here. Hell, what her own fiancé would say if he knew how much fun she was having being here with Ben. The background on her phone is she and Zac together and when she clicks it on, there's a text from him still waiting for her reply from an hour ago. The guilt makes her stomach twist. 

"Missy!" she hears with some force behind it, like probably her name has been called quite a few times already. When she turns around, she notices half the crew is staring.

Immediately, she shoves her phone back in her pocket. "I'm here, I'm here, sorry," Missy shifts around and throws the covers back to climb underneath. She fixes the position of the oar, wiggles until she's comfortable against the pillow, and feels the blanket come over her face but before they can begin, there's a camera problem. Again. 

"2 minutes!" Someone calls from the back.

A few moments later, the bed dips under his weight. 

"You good?" Ben asks, and then yanks the blanket down off of her face, much to her dismay. Missy only hopes he ignores all of that crap from earlier. The stupid grin on his face says he probably noticed. She pretty much wants to die. "Miss?"

Missy rolls her eyes, realizing she hasn't answered him yet. She's just too tired for this. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Just sayin', you seem tense," Ben comments, looking at her with mild concern as he gets into position, one leg on each side of hers. 

Missy shrugs, pushing down the urge to blush once again. She wants to tell him she notices he's tense too. Notices him hanging around in his trailer later than he needs to at night. Hears him practicing lines she knows he already knows. Watches him check his phone for messages that never seem to show up. 

Missy's first guess? His wife, who she's never quite been able to figure out. Laura's all over him when she's around, holding his hand, PDA everywhere. Very... Into him. But when she's gone? She's really gone. Like, doesn't come around for months. 

As much as Missy wants to know, she doesn't ask.

"Maybe I'm tense cause I'm stuck with you all day," she remarks, smugly. She watches him get comfortable, sitting back on her thighs. "It would drive anyone crazy."

Ben gives a face like he knows there's not an ounce of real heat in her words. "Is that so?"

Missy gives him a single nod. "Yup."

"Eh," Ben shrugs, leaning forward till his hands pressed into the mattress on each side of her, "I kinda like it here."

Missy scoffs, gesturing to the crew around them. "What could you possibly like about being in a state of undress in front of alllll these people?" With that, she hears a snicker from behind the camera. 

"Well, you don't seem to mind," Ben whispers before propping himself back up with a humored look on his face.

Missy frowns, almost gets the chance to ask him what the hell he's talking about. She doesn't seem to mind _what_ , exactly? 

"Okay let's go," the Director announces, with a clap like he thinks he's in a football huddle. "Time's a wastin'."

Ben raises a palm up in front of her, sends a wink. Missy responds with some feigned exasperation and quickly their open faced high-five turns into something longer, his fingers slipping in between hers casually. It's their way to get their heads back in the game, always has been. Today, it makes her feel funny. "Let's do this," he says quietly, tilting his chin towards her with what feels like a secret smile. 

Missy glares at him and pulls the sheet back over her head before wishing she could just die.

And then she soldiers on. The sheet is pulled back down and the cameras are on and she's back in character. Her hands drag along his hard thighs, his fingertips touch the skin along her torso, but not hers, not his. 

 _Andy's_ body. 

 _Sam's_ hands. 

Her palms smooth over his back over and over again and it's like being tired has made her hypersensitive. Every time he takes that stupid oar and drops it on the floor, a tremor runs through her. 

Ben kisses her for at least an extra second after they'd cut that time around. For a moment, Missy wishes he could be one kissing her goodnight tonight. 

* * *

"Plans tonight?" Missy asks him while she fixes her shoelaces, packing up after they'd shut it all down for the day. It's surprising that they're out before the sun goes down. 

Ben shrugs, tugging the van door open for her before they hopped in to head home. "Still got a lot of work to do before tomorrow," he tells her convincingly. Ben's a good actor, she'll give him that. If only he realized how obvious he was when he avoided eye contact with her. "What about you? Hanging out with Zac tonight?"

Missy shakes her head, tugging her seatbelt across her chest and making room for him to sit beside her. "Nah, Zac's in New York." 

...Has been for a couple weeks, she doesn't say out loud. 

"Ahh," he concedes, clicking in his own belt. "Laura is...," he pauses, tipping his head down to stare at his lap. "Not here either."

Missy nods, hears a twinge of sadness in his voice. She'd kinda like to curl in against his side and stay there for a while. It's tough to see this really pure-hearted guy, her complete opposite but still a mentor to her, upset over something too personal to talk about. "You wanna get a drink tonight?" 

He smiles, though she's not sure it meets his eyes.  "You know I don't drink."

"Pfft," Missy waves a hand to dismiss him. "I know that's what you _tell_ people. As if you actually prefer tea," Ben smiles at that, looking over when she gives him a nudge in the side.  Missy doesn't like how much she really, really wants a night with just him, but now that she thought of it, she wants it to happen. "Come on, just a drink."

"Alright," he sighs, like she's all but forcing him.  But he's grinning. And it feels like a win. 

"Yeessssss!" Missy fist pumps the air.

"Yeah, yeah," Ben chuckles and rolls his eyes, shifting around to get comfortable before they pull out onto the highway. "Thanks," he says quietly, a minute later. His eyes are soft but his jaw is still tight. 

Missy smiles, reaches over to squeeze his hand quick, before popping her earphones in and laying down to finally get in a snooze. 

Later, after a drink turned into two, and a ride home turned into a third at her place, it's like déjà vu. She recognizes the sound of his belt buckle from their scenes over and over again in the day. Trailing her fingers down his bare chest, Missy's heart pounds. The fear, the guilt, the overwhelming need that she's held back for so long. 

Her brain all but shuts off when his mouth meets her neck, a gentle tugging down to the area around her collarbone. She goes for his zipper, knows he's watching by the way his chest expands with just her reach toward the waistband of his boxers.

He did, in fact, kiss her goodnight that night. 

 

 


End file.
